


Wings and Flowers

by castielrisingabove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Couple, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, florist, tattoo artist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4225044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak runs a peaceful flower shop in small town Kansas. His world is turned upside down, however, by the arrival of tattoo artist Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> So...due to certain personal reasons, I'm amending this work from sastiel to destiel. I'm really sorry to people following this before. I'm also sorry if there's a couple mistakes in the first couple chapters, which I'm working to clean up right now.

~ CAS ~

Castiel Novak, a soft spoken man with softer brown hair, looked up from his work (currently an arrangement of fresh tulips) at the unprecedented racket occurring outside his door. He frowned. Lawrence, Kansas wasn't known for being particularly noisy, especially not at 8 AM. When the noise didn't cease, he sighed. Wiping his hands on his apron, Cas wandered through a myriad of flowers to peek out the window.

A large moving truck labeled ELLEN'S MOVING COMPANY was the first thing he noticed. The next was a sleek black Impala parked nearby. And then he noticed the people. Two men, about his age from the looks of it, were carrying boxes from the truck to the shop nearby. Cas knew the place had been empty for a while. Ever since his brother Gabriel had gotten an offer from a bigger investor to move his shop (Sweet Tricks) to another city...Cas sighed sadly. He missed his brother.

As the men passed his window, Castiel was able to get a closer look. Both were heavily tattooed. The shorter one had light, spiky hair. The taller one, on the other hand, had his long brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Cas wondered briefly if these might simply be the movers. After all, what kind of businessmen looked like that? Leather jackets, tattoos...probably piercings too, if Cas could get a closer look. 

Curiosity won out, and Cas leaned on the window frame, craning his neck as the men entered the shop. As they headed back to the truck, however, Castiel grew self-conscious, tucking back behind some of his flowers as the men grew close.

The footsteps stopped, however, right outside his window.

"Dude, I think I saw someone in there!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the 'open' sign implies someone's inside, Dean."

"No, I mean...I think someone was staring."

"So? We're new here, staring isn't that strange."

"I dunno, Sammy. They might have been checking you out."

"Shut up, Dean."

Cas peeked out from behind a set of roses to see the smaller man laughing. The taller one whacked his shoulder, jokingly, and rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Sammy," the smaller man said, "Aren't you at least a bit curious? There might be a hot girl in there."

The taller man, Sammy, sighed. "You're moving in and the first thing you can think of is hooking up with your next door neighbor." He rounds on the other man, "5 minutes alone. Then you've got to get back to work."

Dean chuckled. "Fair enough."

Sammy rolled his eyes. "Remember who's helping you empty this truck. This stuff isn't exactly light."

Dean nodded, and the conversation was over. Cas' eyes widened as he realized Dean was heading towards his shop. He tried to back away, pretend he didn't even notice the two men outside the door, but in his haste, he backed into a vase, which crashed to the floor the moment the other man walked in. Cas swore softly, staring at the mess of glass, flowers and water that pooled near his feet. He prayed the man wouldn't notice.

"You, uh, look like you've got your hands full." Up close, Cas realized the man was not as short as he appeared. A snake tattoo peeked out of the neckline. He was the kind of guy who would have been intimidating if met in a dark alley, but there was something soothing about his voice, low and kind.

"It's fine," Cas said, making no movement to clean up the vase as he stared up at the strange man in his shop. His eyes were green, Cas noted, reminding him of a vibrant stem or an oak leaf the sun hit just right.

"Uh, okay..." the man trailed off, clearly growing uncomfortable under Castiel's piercing stare. Cas, embarrassed, looked away as the man spoke again. "I'm Dean. And you are...?"

"Castiel," Cas responded, "Though most people refer to me as Cas."

"Cas. Nice name," Dean replied, a hint of swagger in his voice.

Silence fell once again, until Cas nervously cleared his throat. "You're new here."

Dean chuckled. "I must stand out, huh?" he grinned as Cas looked concerned, "I'm a tattoo artist, I'll be opening shop at the place next door."

Cas had resumed staring. He couldn't help it. Dean was an exotic creature, so different from his usual customers. 

"...right," Dean continued, "Well, uh, it's nice to meet you. Guess I'll see you around, huh?"

He reached out his hand and Cas caught hold of it, giving a firm handshake and lingering an extra moment before reminding himself he had to let go. And then Dean was gone, the bell of the shop ringing as he caught up with his brother.

Cas took a deep breath, the words finally coming out when he was alone in the shop. "It's nice to meet you, Dean."


	2. Tats

 ~ DEAN ~

"So, was she cute?" Sam asked, grunting as he lifted a heavy chair out of the moving truck. Thankfully, the back of the truck was growing more and more empty. They'd only have to make a trip or two before it was done.

Dean sighed his head as he pulled out a similar chair. "His name's Castiel," he replied, glancing into the window of the flower shop as he lugged the chair towards his own place. He got a glimpse of plenty of flowers, but the man from earlier was nowhere in sight.  _Of course he's not hanging around the window_ , Dean chided himself,  _he's got plenty to do, I'm sure_.  _  
_

"Earth to Dean!" Sam's voice pulled Dean back to reality. He'd grown so distracted he'd almost missed his own place. "I was asking if you saw if the flower guy had a hot assistant."

Dean didn't answer right away, bending to get the chair through the door and immediately dropping it as soon as it had crossed shop premises. "It was just him, as far as I could tell."

Sam groaned, plopping the chair he was carrying on the floor and immediately sitting in it. "What took you so long, then?"

Dean shrugged. "He seemed nice. A bit odd, but..."

Laughter. "Probably isn't used to seeing someone looking like you, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

There was a squeak as Sam shifted the chair to face Dean. "Tall, leather jacket, enough piercings and tats to give an old woman a heart attack...people here are different. Not quite as rebellious as you."

Dean's face hardened. "Not everyone's as bad as  _Dad_ , you know."

There had been a falling out between Dean and his father when Dean refused to join the family mechanic's shop and instead went to art school. The tattoo shop hadn't been his original plan, but, well, it worked. And, of course, to spite his father further, Dean had made sure to get plenty of tattoos on his own body. The snake tattoo was definitely his biggest, circling his shoulder, and winding its way up his neck. Remnants from a past boyfriend. A bad influence.

"Yeah," Sam replied stiffly, getting out of his chair, "But I'm just saying...maybe if that flower guy was weird, that's why. He probably doesn't want the likes of you around."

He strode out the door, leaving Dean to follow. Dean watched the window of the flower shop. As he caught a glimpse of Castiel, he gave a small, nervous wave. To his disappointment, however, the other man didn't reciprocate the gesture. Dean sighed, wilting slightly. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe he wasn't wanted here. Still, this was his fresh start. A place to rebuild his life after everything had fallen apart. He'd been lucky Sam had been there to drag him out of the toxic relationship, but the damage in that town had still been done. 

Sam had begged Dean to stay with him. A life with his older brother would be far better than being alone. But Dean already had a life. He loved the family business, he was good at it. Sam couldn't drag him away from that. Still, Dean promised to help him move, settle in. After that...well, making friends wasn't hard, right? Sam glanced back at the flower shop window, but if Cas was there, he wasn't visible. 

"You'll figure something out," Sam said, a little more kindly as he noticed Dean's downtrodden face. He pulled the last box out of the moving truck and began the final walk towards the new tattoo shop, "Just you wait, great things are around the corner."

Dean nodded glumly. The rest of the day was spent with Sam trying to cheer his brother up. They ordered pizza and ate it on the floor of the disheveled shop. Sam talked and joked while they set the place up, providing Dean with a steady stream of cheerful noise. At the end of the day, they chilled in two of the shop's chairs, drinking a well earned beer when Dean noticed the lights go off in the flower shop next door. 

He sat up straight as he saw Castiel leave the shop, Dean was frozen as he tried to decide what to do. But before he could do anything, Castiel was already in his car, a golden 1978 Lincoln.

"That the flower guy?" Sam asked, looking up curiously.

"Yeah."

Dean pauses before adding,

"His ride sucks."

Sam scoffed. "Dude, not everyone has a car like yours."

"Damn right."

Dean sighed, watching as the headlights of Cas' car faded into the distance. Sam glanced over, an odd expression on his face as he watched his brother.

"He'll always be back tomorrow, you know," Sam added quietly.

Dean, torn from his reverie, looked over to his brother, smiling softly at the thought. "Yeah...there's always tomorrow."

 


	3. Morning

~ CAS ~

The next day dawned bright and early for Cas. Orders, no doubt, had come in later the day before, and between tending the nursery of homegrown plants and arranging the various bouquets, he had plenty to do. What he wasn't expecting, however, was for the next day to dawn so bright and early for Dean.

Castiel almost crashed into the parking bumper when he saw Dean at the shops. The first give away was the myriad of tattoos visible on his arms, though what they were was hard to tell from so far away. Cas debated about waving, rolling down the window and saying hello,  _something_  to be friendly...but he chickened out at the last minute.

It wasn't that he didn't  _want_  to be friends with Dean, but after his nervous debacle the day before, Dean no doubt had a low opinion of the florist. Cas sighed. What he wouldn't give to be brave again...

He had been brave before. Castiel had served in the military. Air Force. One of the best pilots there was, he'd been ruthless, cold, and obedient. Until the plane crash. Nothing changes someone's mindset quite as fast as a near death experience, especially when that near death experience dropped him next to one of the towns he'd just bombed. Seeing the destruction...the pain...it changed Castiel. Nearly broke him. Even now, if he thought about it too hard, Cas' blood would run cold and his hands would shake. These days, being tucked away in a tiny town with a variety of cheerfully colored flowers was the closest thing to paradise Cas could imagine. It was quiet; more importantly, it was safe.

Dean, on the other hand, was the opposite of safe. Which, while oddly alluring, only added to Castiel's belief that someone like Dean would ever want anything to do with someone like him. Maybe Sam would have liked the old Castiel, but this one? Doubtful. He'd already left him with a first impression of a sputtering idiot, the other impressions (if any) couldn't be much better.

The flower shop rolled into view when Cas realized he'd spent the entire drive thinking about his mysterious, tattooed neighbor. He sighed, shaking his head as he made his way into the shop. Arranging flowers would help. That always helped keep his mind off darker things.

For a while, it worked.

Then the door chime rang. "I'll be with you in a--" Cas called out, wiping his hands on his apron as he turned to see none other than Dean. His eyes were just as vibrant as Cas had remembered. Dean cleared his throat and pushed something forwards. Cas looked down to a box of donuts.

"I, uh, brought breakfast," Dean said, "For you and the other nearby shop keepers. To introduce myself...it being a small town and all, everyone knows everyone..."

Cas nodded, staring at Dean's hands, which were also tattooed. One, in faint cursive, read "angels are watching over you." Cas smiled softly at the thought before remembering he was supposed to respond in a conversation. "I don't actually know any of the other owners."

"Oh."

That had been Gabe's job. Gabriel was the friendly one, the charming one. Everyone knew Gabe, everyone loved him. How could they not? Cas, well...he was always a bit more wary of others, a bit more out of touch with the world. 

"I am probably the exception, though," Cas added hastily.

Dean didn't say anything. For a moment, it was simply them staring at each other. Finally, Cas reached out, selecting a donut from the box. He didn't eat it, the glaze sticky on his fingers as he looked from Dean to the donut and back. Dean coughed. Slowly, Cas took a bite.

"Thank you for the pastry," Cas said after he swallowed.

"No problem..."

"You probably have  a lot of other people to visit," Cas said, nodding at the still-full box of donuts.

"Yeah...I came here first," Dean said. Cas perked up slightly. "I mean," Dean continued, "You're the closest one here, so..."

Cas wilted slightly, but nodded. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

Cas smiled. "Only if you bring more food, though."

Dean frowned as he turned to leave. "Wait, what?"

A sigh. "I was attempting humor," Cas admitted, "You are obviously welcome with or without food."

Dean's face lit up, eyes dancing in the glow of the sunlight streaming through Cas' window. "I'll be around, then," he replied cheerfully, giving a small wave before turning around.

With a jingle of the door bell, Dean was gone, leaving Cas staring after him, half-eaten donut still in hand. Had he left a better impression on Dean the second time around? He'd made a joke, that had to be good...right?

Cas craned his neck, watching the taller man walk down the street, a slight spring in his step. So their second interaction hadn't been  _all_  bad...Cas smiled, taking another bite of the donut as he considered the possibility that Dean might actually become his friend.


	4. Donuts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, in case people are following this, for personal reasons I've changed this fic from Sastiel to Destiel. Sorry for the switch up, there's way too much drama behind this one to explain fully.

~DEAN~

The rest of the shopkeepers were nice enough. There was Charlie, a vivacious red-head who ran a comic book store; Bobby, a surly grump who ran the mechanic's and warmed up to Dean as soon as they started talking shop; and Ellen, who ran a place called "The Roadhouse" with her daughter, Jo. It was supposedly a family eating establishment during the day, then the local drinking hole come night-time, and was always welcome for some "attractive young men" as Ellen had put with a wink and a nudge. Jo blushed at those words.

All in all, it seemed nice. Simple. Dean couldn't understand why Castiel didn't know anyone else, as the neighboring shopkeepers all seemed especially welcoming. Then again, the little Dean knew about Cas was enough to tell him the man wasn't exactly a smooth talker. 

He puzzled over the enigma that was the man at the flower shop while he started on his first tattoo: an especially well-endowed woman holding a pitchfork. Dean was so distracted that he almost colored her hair blue, the same blue as Castiel's piercing eyes, rather than the blonde so typical in a tattoo like this. It  _was_ a shame that the members of the Lawrence community weren't nearly as interested in unique and detailed designs...

~two and a half years ago~

_"I hear you're the best in town,_ _" a deep voice drawled, the sweetness of a southern accent mixed with a hint of grit._

_Dean looked up from his sketch to see a tall, well-muscled man standing above him. His reddish hair was thick, a nice beard forming as he grinned down at Dean._

_"Cat got your tongue, brotha?" the man asked, eyes crinkling with good humor as he slid a picture to Dean. It was a shadow of a tree silhouetted by the full moon. A detailed picture, no less, that would take multiple sessions to get properly inked in._

_Dean swallowed, taking the picture in his hands to avoid dealing with the attractive stranger staring down at him. "Yeah, uh, I think I can do this."_

_The man beamed. "Excellent. The name's Benny, by the way." He extended a hand._

_"Dean," Dean replied, shaking Benny's hand, "Dean Winchester."_

 ~~

Dean nearly dropped the tattoo gun as the memory seemed to hit him. For a second he was  _there_ , back in that tattoo parlor in Seattle, the loud alternative music that he always hated blasting, the faint smell of weed, and Benny... _oh_ , Benny...

Dean shook his head, trying to focus again on the task at hand. He was in Kansas now, halfway across the country. He had a place of his own and, most importantly, he never had to see Benny again.

A flicker of movement caught Dean's eye and he set down the tattoo gun, finished with the portion he was charged to ink today. As Dean looked up, he caught Castiel whipping away from the window. Had the guy really been peeking in? Was he curious? Dean knew he was probably making a mountain out of a molehill...but...there was something about that guy...

The next morning, Dean was back over at the flower shop with donuts. This time Castiel was arranging a cheerful bouquet of yellow and white flowers, green leaves and fluffy white flowers surrounding them.

"It's daisies," Cas explained, cracking a small smile as Dean held the box out towards him, "I assume for a young lady's birthday."

Dean marveled at the way Castiel controlled color. As a tattoo artist, it was easy. He could select from his pre-determined palettes. But every flower was different; different shades, different shapes, and Cas seemed to know exactly which ones would look good together when arranged. Dean could feel the cheerful innocence of the daisy bouquet radiating from the vase and grinned to himself before feeling those ice-blue eyes on him.

Cas, it seemed, had all but teleported to Dean while he was distracted and now stood mere inches from Dean's chest. Dean could feel heat rushing to his face, coloring the few tattoos he'd left black and white. Without ceasing eye-contact, Cas reached down slowly and took a donut from the box.

"Uh, Cas?" Dean croaked, green eyes locked with the piercing blue, "Personal space?"

The man stared for a moment, then stepped away slowly. "Of course," Castiel replied, looking away for the first time, "I am still trying to grasp all the mechanics of correct interaction."

Dean licked his lips, exhaling slowly as he allowed himself one final moment to drink in the shopkeeper; his disheveled hair, a streak of dirt across his white t-shirt and a goofy blue apron that read the name "Castiel's Flower Shop" across the top in overly curly font. "It's..." Dean trailed off as he noted the toned physique, "All good, man." He forced a smile and nodded. Cas brightened slightly and nodded back.

"Guess I'd better leave you to your daisy birthday bouquet," Dean said finally.

"I'll see you around?" Cas asked.

Dean stopped by every morning that week with donuts.


	5. Request

~CAS~

Two weeks. Dean Winchester had moved in two weeks ago and Castiel had spoken to him every day. The tattooed man had stopped by the shop with donuts so many times that he knew Castiel's preference (jelly-filled) and Castiel knew his (maple bar). They both talked about their families, so now Cas knew about Dean's little brother Sam who was attending law school across the country, and now Dean knew about Cas' very large, very unfortunate family, Gabriel included. 

Most importantly, Castiel learned he very much enjoyed the company of Dean Winchester. He always waved when Dean passed the shop window and was practically waiting at the door every morning when Dean swung by with donuts. He always put his most interesting and beautiful arrangements for that day in a place where Dean could see. Not that Dean particularly understood why the bouquet was arranged the way it was, but he often remarked on the colors or combinations and Cas drank it all in.

Dean's arrival also brought some...unexpected side-effects. It was, for instance, the first time Castiel had ever tried to socialize with his neighbors, as Dean had invited Cas to come to the Roadhouse bar with him to "get to know people." Dean was a lot better at this process than Cas; he was full of deep belly laughs and genuine smiles, chatting with everyone around. Cas, on the other hand, was stiff and awkward, trying desperately to connect to people...but Dean was an anomaly, connections didn't always come easily.

The other unexpected side-effect was an odd, bitter sensation in Castiel's gut when he watched Dean flirt with the women in the Roadhouse. He was turned down immediately by Charlie, who was very much attracted to women (thank goodness), but Jo, a pretty blonde who tended the Roadhouse, was eating his attention up. Castiel was so grumpy at this fact, for reasons he couldn't put his finger on, that he'd gotten up to leave. He was probably halfway out the door when Charlie had roped him back in. She'd started chatting to him about his flower shop and Cas couldn't help but be pulled in by her infectious enthusiasm. 

Still, he couldn't help but shoot dirty looks in Jo's direction for the remainder of the night as she took up all of Dean's attention.

\---

"Oh my goodness, you're in love with him," Gabriel said over the phone.

"Very funny, Gabriel," Castiel grumbled, "I thought you called to check in, not to tease me."

"I can multi-task," Gabriel chuckled. 

Gabriel was Cas' older brother, closest to Cas in age, and unlike just about everything else, took his older brother responsibilities seriously. And by responsibilities, it mostly just meant poking fun at his younger brother. Gabe had been the master of pranks when they were younger. Hell, he'd been the master of pranks when they were older too, until one "fake snake" gag had resulted in Castiel breaking several vases and ended in Cas threatening a restraining order. He never would have followed through, but Gabriel got the message.

"Seriously, though," Gabriel continued, "You've got to have the hots for that guy. I tried for _years_  to get you out to the Roadhouse, and that guy gets you out in two weeks?"

"Dean is just more persuasive than you," Cas insisted.

"He offer smooches or something?" Cas can hear the sheer glee in Gabriel's voice.

"No," Cas replied calmly, wiping down his kitchen counter. This was one perk of Gabriel being gone, the apartment could finally be immaculate. "Dean didn't threaten to 'use sharpie to turn all the flowers on my sign into dicks,' like you did."

Gabriel laughed loudly at that, "C'mon, bro, you know that would have been funny." He laughs for a minute or so before subsiding, "You know I'm not kidding about this Dean guy, right?"

Cas couldn't help but catch the more serious edge that crept into Gabriel's voice. His brow furrowed and he set down the rag. "I'm not in love with Dean, Gabriel," Cas murmured slowly, "Besides, he's made it abundantly clear he's interested in women."

There was a long pause on Gabriel's end, until... "Does he visit them every morning with donuts?"

Cas blinked. "That's different."

Gabriel sighed. "Cassie, how long has it been since Meg?"

Castiel grimaced. He'd been trying to make things work, trying to be the sort of son his father expected. A straight son, essentially. Meg had been...a handful. She was outspoken, sarcastic and prone to being cruel to anyone who wasn't Cas...and sometimes Cas as well. And when Cas realized he was well and truly gay...she hadn't taken kindly to that. Called him a liar and a tease and that was on the nice end of what she had to say.

"Three years," he replied.

"Then it's about time you get back into the dating game."

Cas sighed, running a damp hand through his hair. "It's not that easy Gabriel," he insisted, "I don't know if I'm attracted to Dean at all, and even if I am...there's almost no chance he's attracted to me."

"Get a tattoo."

Cas frowned, the advice coming seemingly out of nowhere, but before he could protest, Gabriel continued.

"If you get a tattoo, that's an excuse to get to know him. You're forced to spend hours with him, especially if you request an elaborate one, and he gets to see how you deal with pain. You get a tattoo and I'm sure you'll figure out by the time it's over whether or not you want to try to pursue Dean Winchester and whether or not he'll want to pursue you."

Cas was quiet, mulling over Gabriel's words as he resumed his cleaning, wiping the crumbs from the stove top. He'd never really thought much about a tattoo, especially nothing as elaborate as Gabe was envisioning, but his brother _did_  have a point. It was an easy way to get to spend time with Dean.

The only problem? Money was tight.

It wasn't that the shop didn't make a lot of money...well, no, that was exactly the problem. Cas barely made enough to get by. He was too proud to admit the situation, especially not to Gabriel, whose store was doing well enough that it would likely be adding a new branch in a couple of months. 

Still, the more Cas pondered Gabriel's suggestion, the more he liked it.

"I'll do it," Cas said finally. He'd find a way to take care of the cost somehow.

"Way to go, baby bro!" Gabriel cheered, "Lemme know how it goes! My suggestion for tattoo is my face, mustachioed, right across your chest..."

"Very funny, Gabriel."

"It was worth a shot."

\---

Admittedly, Castiel had to steel himself before walking into Dean's shop. In one hand he held a picture of the design, in the other was a bouquet of pink roses. He took one deep breath, then another, then...accidentally made eye contact with Dean through the window. Like it or not, it was game time.

Dean looked very surprised to see Castiel, he stood up from where he was cleaning one of the chairs and Cas could have sworn he stumbled slightly.

"What are you here for, Cas?"

"I, uh, don't know how to say this, but..." Cas shoved the paper bearing the design into Dean's hands, feeling a profound sense of relief when Dean's green eyes focused on the page, rather than Castiel.

"You want a tattoo?" Dean asked, taken aback, "This is...wow, it's a big project, you know."

Cas looked down. "I am aware," he replied, "But I have even more to ask of you."

Dean's face, always far more expressive than Castiel's, quirked into confusion, his brow pinching together. "How so?"

"I...don't really have much money right now," Cas admitted softly. It was strange, he never admitted these things to anyone, but here he was explaining it to a guy he'd met two weeks ago, "Though I thought I might be able to provide you with flowers."

Another weird look from Dean. Cas hung his head.

"For your lady friends," Cas explained further, staring intently at the hardwood floors, "I thought I could provide you with free flowers that you could use on anyone you intended to woo."

"Oh."

"I know it's not a lot," Cas finally looked up at Dean, embarrassed by the hint of desperation that had crept into his voice, "And I'll pay you back eventually, I just thought...this could tide you over. It's a bad idea, I--"

"I'll do it."

Cas' eyes searched Dean's face for a sign of joking, but saw none. No, Dean's face was a mask, any other emotions all but unreadable. "You will?" Cas asked, surprised.

Dean shrugged. "Sure," he replied, "I'm not getting much business right now anyway, so you'll make some nice advertising and besides, nobody's come in with such a fun looking design since I moved. I've been itching to make some real art."

"You're welcome to take as much artistic liberties as you'd like," Cas said eagerly, "From the work you've shown me, you're clearly a capable artist."

A grin tugged at Dean's lips. "I'd like that."

They stood for a moment, just staring at each other, then Cas remembered the bouquet. He handed it to Dean slightly forcefully. "Think of this as an initial payment," Cas said.

"It's really pretty."

"Thanks." Now it was Cas' turn to smile.

They stared again, then Dean nodded awkwardly. Cas took that as his cue to leave. He was almost to the door when Dean called out again.

"So, these wings...how big do you want 'em?" 

"I thought they'd span my shoulder blades and curl down my back, if that's not too much." It was probably too much. Castiel had gotten carried away planning this tattoo.

Dean calculated for a moment, "It should be fine...it'll take a while though, you know."

Castiel suppressed a smile. "If you're up for it, than I am."

"Awesome. You wanna come in Friday for the first part?"

"I'd love to."

And then Cas was gone, an odd sense of excitement brimming in his chest. Friday couldn't come fast enough, as far as he was concerned.


	6. Roses

~DEAN~

His heart had almost stopped when he saw Castiel come into the shop with flowers. The guy was dorky and awkward, sure, but Dean had never pegged him as forwards. Dean had tried to brainstorm other reasons why Cas would be walking into his shop with flowers, tried to keep his face neutral but before he could say anything, Castiel had shoved a paper into his hands.

It was a pair of wings. Jet black and huge, yet surprisingly delicate and detailed. Dean couldn't keep the confusion from crossing his face. Of all the things he'd expected from Cas entering with flowers, this wasn't in the list of possibilities.

Then Cas had explained further. Dean couldn't help but feel his heart leap in his chest. A tattoo like this could take a while...he'd have Castiel all to himself the whole time. Dean focused on keeping the excitement off his face. When Cas said he couldn't pay, it was all Dean could do from blurting out he'd do it for free. 

He did do a double take as Castiel explained the flowers. Did Cas think he was seeing someone? It was true, Dean was a flirt, but that was as far as it went. Dean couldn't help but cringe inwardly as Cas referred to Dean's supposed lover as a "lady friend." And while it was true Dean enjoyed the ladies, he was equally partial to the guys. He just didn't know how to show it, it's not like he could wear a sign around his neck. 

Not that it mattered; Cas was probably straight anyway.

To Dean's credit, he made it through the rest of the interaction very professionally. He even waited until Castiel was out the door before he buried his nose in the bouquet of pink roses Cas had given him. For a moment, Dean was able to pretend that Castiel had given HIM these roses. He was so lost in that daydream that he didn't notice Charlie entering his shop.

"Who are those for?" 

Dean's head whipped up to see Charlie leaning over the front desk. He flushed. "They're mine." That was true, right? Castiel gave them to him to give away, he didn't have to know Dean was giving the flowers to himself. 

Charlie's eyes went wide, her eyebrows shooting up past her bangs. "Castiel?"

Damn Charlie and her unfairly good guesses. And damn his embarrassingly red cheeks, which wouldn't exactly help anything he wants to say denying it. Instead, Dean just said, "He's paying for a tattoo with flowers." Which, of course, does not explain the blush spreading across his face or how he'd been caught with his nose buried in a bouquet of pink roses, but Dean figured Charlie would jump to her own conclusions.

"Cas is getting a _tattoo?_ " Charlie sounded incredulous. Admittedly, she'd known him longer than Dean had, but he didn't know why she sounds so surprised.

"Yeah, he wants some wings," Dean replied, handing Charlie the page, which only served to make the surprised expression on Charlie's face all the more pronounced.

"This is...wow..." Charlie stared at the page, not making any further comments. 

"What?" Dean couldn't leave this to mystery, "This is what?"

Charlie shrugged, handing the page back to Dean. "I don't know Castiel that well, but I know him enough to say this isn't like him."

"What isn't?"

Charlie sighed, plopping onto one of Dean's chairs. "How much do you know about Castiel?"

Now it was Dean's turn to shrug. He fiddled with the flowers in his hand, trying to find something else to focus on while talking. "His favorite color is the purple in a sunset, he raises bees in his little house outside of town, he likes to mix the honey into his tea, his favorite donut is jelly-filled--"

"Woah, wait," Charlie cut him off, propping herself up on the arm of the chair with her elbows, "How do you know all this about Cas? You rummage through his trash or something?"

"No!" Dean was aghast anyone would think that, "I bring donuts by his shop every morning." It's not something Dean wanted to admit; secretly he liked it just being his and Castiel's things.

"And he _talks_?"

"Yeah?"

"Damn," Charlie leans back into the chair, staring up at the ceiling. She giggled. "Wonder what Gabe would say knowing all it takes to get Cas out of his shell is donuts and a cute guy."

"It's not like that!" Dean protested as he pushed to his feet, suddenly very invested in finding a vase for the flowers in his hand. "We just hang out."

"Castiel, the known hermit, is talking to you. He goes to the Roadhouse with you _and_  suddenly he wants an elaborate tattoo," Charlie replied, grinning as she left the chair to aid Dean in his search, "And who are you kidding about owning a vase?"

Dean grumbled a response as he unscrewed the lid of his water bottle and shoved the roses in it. Water sloshed out and the whole thing looked as though it could tip over at any moment. He shoved several art books up against it, making a crude lean-to.

"Oooo, classy," Charlie mocked. "Bet you could get Castiel to give you a vase for free. I mean, he IS trying to pay off that tattoo, and that thing can't be cheap."

Dean flopped against the front desk. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

Dean sighed. "He's giving me the flowers so I can give 'em to my 'lady friends.'" He mimed the last words in air-quotes.

"He thinks you're straight?"

"You don't?"

Charlie burst into laughter. "C'mon, who'd you think you were fooling?"

Dean poked a flower with his finger, staring at anything but Charlie. "I dunno, everyone?"

She punched him lightly. "If it's any consolation, I'm better at picking this up than most people, so you're probably in the clear..." Charlie paused for a moment, "If you want to be, anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know." Charlie stretched, pulling her phone from her pocket. "Okay, this is pushing up against how long an acceptable bathroom break should last."

"You visited during a bathroom break?" Dean bit back a laugh. Who were these people? He'd never had this much fun where he was before, hell, he'd barely known the other people who worked in the shop with him, much less the people who worked nearby. 

"Don't feel too special, princess," Charlie pushed to standing. She stopped at the door to wave at him, "I visit everyone."

"You just like me best!" Dean called out as the door began to swing closed behind Charlie. He could hear her laughter as she made her way back to her place.

He sighed as he turned back to face the flowers. Dean made a mental note to find a way to procure a vase. The flowers sat on the front desk for the rest of the day (thankfully, none of his clients asked questions) before they were moved. With much trouble, Dean had to note, as he tried to keep the bouquet in tact while also keeping his precious '67 Impala dry (he had to squeeze the water bottle between his legs). Still, it was worth it as the rose adorned water bottle sat in the center of his small kitchen table.

Nobody else would have to know he hadn't given them away, right?


	7. The First Ink

~CAS~

Friday dawned bright and early, Dean stopping by Cas' shop like he always did. One hand held a box of donuts, the other was behind his back. Cas opened the box and made a face. "They only had maple?"

Dean shrugged, though his face quirked a grin. "I dunno what to tell you, guess everyone really wanted the jelly-filled."

Cas stared at the dozen maple bars with intense confusion. "But a couple days ago you told me that 'nobody in their right mind would eat a jelly-filled donut.'"

"Guess I was wrong."

Cas' brow furrowed, his face set almost in a pout. "I don't know if I should be glad the people of this town have refined their tastes...or unhappy they've left me with maple."

Dean burst into a laugh, revealing a single, jelly-filled donut in the hand hidden behind his back. Cas grabbed it with a scowl, taking a big bite. "Don't ever scare me like that again," he demanded, mouth half full.

This only served to make Dean laugh harder. Cas gave him a glare before taking another bite of the jelly-filled pastry. "I will never understand you," Dean commented, shaking his head as he grabbed a maple bar for himself.

Cas huffed a laugh and they continued eating in silence. When he was done, Cas washed the sticky jelly off his fingers in the nearby sink before wandering back to Dean. "Did she like them?"

Dean looked up from his second donut, confused. Cas tried to explain, "The flowers I gave you, the pink roses, did she like them?"

A strange looked crossed Dean's face, but Cas couldn't say what it meant. It was gone as quickly as it had come, though, and Dean grinned broadly. "Worked like a charm. Totally got me laid."

Unbidden, a dark feeling twisted Castiel's gut. He knew that the point of their agreement was to give Dean flowers to woo women, but Cas didn't _like_  that it worked. He brushed the feeling aside, trying to focus on anything but that. "I didn't know what she liked, do you know of any preferences? Colors or specific flowers?"

"I--uh, _she_  needs a vase," Dean said readily.

"That's easy enough to arrange," Cas replied, sliding into a far more business-like attitude with ease, "Any preferences on the bouquet itself?"

Dean looked around the shop, drumming his fingers on his lip. Cas found it hard to look away from the simple motion. "Yellows," he said finally, "Those are nice."

"You share a favorite color," Cas noted, heart sinking.

"Wha--oh yeah," Dean shrugged, looking casual, "Y'know what they say, great minds think alike and all that."

Cas didn't bother to reply, instead buried himself in searching for an adequate arrangement. "This one has yellow roses..some button spray chrysanthemums...a splash of alstroemeria..."

He looked up to find Dean staring at him, eyes curious and smile dancing on his lips. "That sounds perfect, Cas."

"You think she'll like it?" Cas showed a half-formed example of what he meant, "Once it's done, of course."

"...she'll love it," Dean said after a short pause.

"Are you sure?"

"Seriously, Cas, it's beautiful," Dean insisted, "Anyone would love to have that."

Cas perked up. "Let me finish this, then I'll be ready for the tattoo. I doubt I'll want to be doing much arranging after I get it." He continued to center his focus on the bouquet. Easier than thinking about Dean and the extraordinarily pleased woman.

"You know today will just be an outline, right?" Dean asked, "It's already gonna take a while, the design you gave me is huge."

"I'm fine with that if you are," Cas replied, plucking a few gerber daisies out of the mix to add to the arrangement. Cas tried to pretend Dean wasn't staring over his shoulder -- he was -- and continued with his work in silence. 

\---

After about half an hour, and a surprising amount of praise from Dean, the bouquet was done and both were headed over to the tattoo shop. Cas only having to double back once to flip the "open" sign to "closed."

"I'm, uh, gonna need you to take off your shirt," Dean sounded almost hesitant to say so.

Cas smiled. "I'd assume as much, given the tattoo is on my back." He obliged, sliding the simple black t-shirt off. Cas could have sworn Dean's eyes grew a little wider and his cheeks a little pinker at the sight, but it could have just been the lighting of the shop.

Under Dean's direction, Cas positioned himself on the chair. He shivered slightly as Dean cleaned the skin, then braced himself for pain. He'd been through plenty, physical pain no longer held the same meaning for him.

"You're surprisingly calm for a guy getting his first tattoo," Dean said, already starting onto his work.

"Lived through worse," Cas replied.

After that, it became more necessary for Cas to sit still and not to talk, so Dean did all the talking. He talked about his brother, talked about his mother (who had died in a fire when Dean was four), muttered curses about his dad. He gushed over Led Zepplin, prattled about the latest Star Wars and even started into discussing his old job in Seattle. Dean fell oddly silent, though, after a mention of "Benny," and refused to speak for the remainder of their session.

That is, until he was showing off his work to Cas in the mirror. Cas was stiff, but his mood couldn't be dampened by anything. After all, he had Dean Winchester all to himself. He could pretend it wasn't a business transaction, but something more casual. Maybe even a date. And the wings, well, what had been inked so far, had been amazing. Cas left and between his infectious good mood and his abundant compliments, Dean seemed cheerful too.

Though it wouldn't last forever. Dean now knew Castiel had incredible pain tolerance, likely from some dark past. Cas now knew a name, a potential name that could unlock all sorts of secrets.

Benny.


	8. Jess is Observant

~DEAN~

"Who's the lucky lady?" Jess' voice floated over the Skype call. 

Sure enough, she was every bit as pretty as Sam had described. He'd certainly gotten lucky in the girlfriend department; Sam had met Jess in the general biology course he'd been putting off and it had become apparent very quickly she was as bright as she was pretty. Her brown eyes sparkled cheerfully as Sam slung an arm around her, bending down to fit into frame.

"Or dude," Sam added as he waved at Dean. He pressed a kiss to Jess' forehead, "He could be giving flowers to a guy."

Dean turned to see both bouquets of flowers sitting pretty prominently on the table behind him. He flushed, lifting his laptop up and carrying it to the nearby couch. 

"So, who is it?" Jess' eyes burned with curiosity. Damn, now there were two of them overly invested in Dean's love life. No wonder Jess got along so well with Sam.

"It's...complicated."

Sam laughed. "C'mon, nothing can be that complicated. You either received flowers or you're planning to give them to someone."

"None of the above, Sammy." Dean shrugged. He sighed at the joint confusion plastered on Sam and Jess' faces. There didn't seem to be a good way out of this one. "They're from Cas."

"The flower shop guy?" Sam's eyebrows raised.

"Is he cute?" Jess squeaked, excited.

Dean shook his head. "No. I mean, yes, he's cute, but he didn't give them to me like that. Cas, uh, wanted a tattoo. Like, a big one. But he couldn't afford it so we worked out a deal, he'll provide me with flowers so I can, uh, give them to whomever I'm pursing."

"But you're not pursuing anyone." Damn, Jess was good at this.

"Dean, don't tell me you've been flirting with everyone in the bar." Sam's voice was exasperated.

"What am I supposed to do? I don't know if Cas even swings this way, the whole thing makes me nervous and the last--" Dean's mouth clamped shut, eyes widening as the familiar lightning strike of fear burst through his heart at the thought of Benny. It had been months, and Sam swore Dean would heal, but if he _was_...well, he didn't seem to be healing that fast.

True, things were definitely going better. Dean could practically sleep through the night now; he didn't wake up with a heart that was inexplicably pounding or the unnatural wakefulness that lead him to wander around the apartment at 4 AM. And he'd smiled more genuine smiles in the last month in Kansas than he had the entirety of the last year. But to say he was entirely better? Not by a long shot.

Benny had broken a lot inside of Dean by the time Dean had managed to get out.

Sam watched him sadly. Dean could see a flicker of guilt lingering in his brother's eyes, as though he'd made a mistake showing his girlfriend off to Dean after everything he'd been through. Dean forced a smile. "Besides, it's not my fault most people can't resist my natural charisma. Bet even Jess would fall for me if I put my ultimate charm on."

Jess snorted. Actually snorted. "Lemme know when you're a couple inches taller."

They all laughed. "Thank goodness I got those genes," Sam joked, kissing Jess. 

Dean smiled, for real this time, happy to see his younger brother doing so well. They'd had a hard upbringing, Dean feeling responsible for ensuring Sam got all the things he wanted in life. Of course, Dean had let him down several Christmases (there's a lot Dean could steal, but it turned out to be a lot harder trying to steal a puppy), but it seemed like he'd been able to make it up to Sam fairly well in the end.

Tension eased, they chatted for a while longer. Dean described the wings he was inking on Cas' back, Jess prattled excitedly about an internship she'd gotten at a local vet's office and Sam dove into detail about his training regiment for the half marathon he and Jess were planning to run in a couple of months. It was nice hearing them talk, made Dean's apartment feel less empty.

But it wasn't long before Jess was gently reminding Sam their time was up. "You have an LSAT to study for."

Sam pouted, even made those puppy dog eyes at Jess, the ones that had been nearly impossible to resist when they were kids, and Dean knew he had to step in. "I've actually got to grab something to eat," he said, grabbing for any casual excuse to end the conversation, "I'll see you around, okay?"

Sam nodded. A wicked grin crossed his face. "Enjoy your flowers."

"Jerk."

Sam laughed, "Bitch." He and Jess waved, then the chat ended, Dean's screen filling with blue.

Dean sighed, eyes trailing over to the flowers on the table. The roses had started to open, making them all the more beautiful, in his opinion. He couldn't help but think of Castiel thoughtfully arranging the bouquet, blue eyes full of concentration, as if the placement of one specific chrysanthemum had the fate of the world hanging in the balance. 

On a whim, Dean tugged the phone out of his pocket, dialing Castiel's number (they'd exchanged them a week or two ago, under the excuse "I need to have a way to contact you in case they run out of jelly donuts.") His brain kicked in after the second ring.

_\--What do you think you're doing? You can't invite Castiel over here! He's a client. A friend. And he **can't**  know that the flowers are still here.--_

Unfortunately, by the time his mind had worked its way to that conclusion, a familiar gravely voice was speaking on the other end of the phone.

_"Hello, Dean."_

Shit. Dean looked around the apartment, desperate for an excuse, something to say...his eyes landed on a half-empty bottle of beer. "Hey, Cas. You wanna come with me to the Roadhouse? If you're not busy, I mean."

_"I, uh, I am not busy, Dean, but..."_

Dean's heart plummeted. He wasn't sure why, this phone conversation wasn't supposed to be happening in the first place, how could he have gotten so invested so quickly?

_"I'm rather sore after the tattoo and I'd prefer to stay home. Perhaps you could come over here? You could bring one of those movies you keep telling me I need to watch..."_

Thank goodness this conversation was over the phone. A dozen emotions rushed through Dean at once. Was Castiel really inviting him over? What did he mean by it? Dean was acting like a high school girl with a crush and for once he didn't care. He ran a hand through his hair, sitting down as he tried to compose himself.

"I'd love to," -- _that wasn't too excited, right?--_ "I'll bring the original  _Star Wars_  trilogy and some beer." -- _the entire trilogy? really?--_

_"That sounds wonderful, Dean. See you soon?"_

Dean couldn't suppress the grin that raced across his face. "Definitely."

He was already half-way outside the door by the time he hung up.


End file.
